


Gaunt Winter

by NotATorontonian (TheLifeAndLiesOfFerns)



Category: Life with Derek
Genre: Athletes, Canadian Politics, F/M, Fluff, Hockey, Humor, Money, Romance, Sex, Sister-Sister Relationship, Swearing, Wealth, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24729670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLifeAndLiesOfFerns/pseuds/NotATorontonian
Summary: The heat fails at Casey's cheap apartment. Derek comes to save her.
Relationships: Casey McDonald & Lizzie McDonald, Casey McDonald/Derek Venturi
Kudos: 114





	Gaunt Winter

"Goddamnit, not again!" Casey groaned as she banged the radiator in her flat.

It rattled, spat, and fell deadly silent. She could practically feel the cold seep through the holes and cracks in her dilapidated home. This was the third time this winter that the heat had stopped working. Her landlord was more of a slumlord and did not respond to anything except complaints from the city housing authority.

The problem with the municipal offices in Toronto? Casey could only reach them during business hours during the week. It just turned six in the evening on a Friday. She would be without heat all weekend, and Monday was a bank holiday, and even then, it may take her Scrooge of a landlord a week or more to finally getting around to fix the heat, just for the sole pleasure to be nasty.

Maybe she really should start saving to move somewhere else.

Casey huffed a breath, stood from her spot next to the radiator in the sitting room and dusted herself off. She had to remain positive about the situation, or else the weekend would be absolutely unbearable.

The living room was the biggest room in her apartment, therefore the least insulated, so she gathered all of the blankets and pillows she could find laying around and dragged them back to her tiny, cramped bedroom.

It looked like she would be living out of there this weekend.

Perhaps she could run to the store and find a couple of cans of soup on sale. She dug through her purse and came up with four dollars. It might be enough to get her two or three cans. That would be enough to last the weekend.

_Right?_

She found the _Toronto Sun_ copy she managed to pilfer from the teachers’ lounge’s trashcan that morning and checked the forecast. Below zero and snow expected.

Well, however many of cans of soup it would buy, it would have to be enough.

* * *

To say things were not going her way since graduation would be an understatement.

Casey picked her major at college when she was seventeen, amidst an economic boom. She thought she could follow her heart and study Dance and Literature, instead of fields with more practical applications, and therefore easier gainful employment.

Fast-forward five years and the subprime bubble had already burst and thrown the goddamned federal budget into a stupid deficit, what propelled Stephen Harper to cut funding to whatever he could get his greedy little fingers on, and, surprise, surprise, the artistic grants were the first to go.

She thought that, should finding a company prove difficult, she could always teach, but she had no capital to invest on a studio of her own. The best she could manage is to teach public schools, but the province is hardly generous with teachers’ salaries, she was not assigned many classes and Toronto is a very expensive city.

That, coupled with some student debt she carried over and her absolute refusal to take money from her father ( _he knows what he did!_ ), meant that her financial situation was far from stable.

* * *

Before she arrived at the supermarket, she stopped by the payphone on her street, put on a few quarters and dialed a familiar number.

“ _Hello?_ ” The voice answered the call.

“Lizzie, thank God you’re home!” Casey exclaimed, genuinely relieved.

“ _Oh, hey, Case! What’s up?_ ” The young adult asks.

It was rather jarring to Casey sometimes to think her little sister was at college now, but time did what time does, and that is to pass them by. Lizzie had been fortunate enough to receive a football scholarship to the University of New Brunswick at Fredericton to study psychology.

 _Years of dealing with the insanity of this house, college will be a breeze!_ , she had said at the time.

“Lizzie, I need to ask you a favour.” Casey said. “I need to be quick because I don’t know how much time I got at the payphone.”

The younger sister supresses the derisive sigh and the preaching about at least agreeing for mom to buy her a cellphone, and responded, “ _Sure, what do you need?_ ”

“My radiator broke down again. Please, would you call Derek on his cellphone and ask him if he could bring me his snow coat and some covers?”

She needed a _snow coat_. That was too much for the blonde to deal from her sister.

“ _Casey, for all that is good and holy, you live in Canada. How come you don’t have a snow coat?!_ ”

“I do have one!” She defended. “But Derek’s bigger and more comfortable to sleep in.”

“ _You have to move._ ” Was the response, matter-of-factly.

“I really should, shouldn’t I?” Casey groaned. “I can’t afford to live anywhere nicer, though, and that’s at least close to the school.”

“ _Y’know, I know you don’t speak to dad and that’s fine, but mom and George could help too. You’re worrying them. You’re worrying us._ ”

“Of course not!” The brunette denied vigorously. “They have Marti and Simon to account for, not to mention you and Edwin at college. What kind of a person would I be if I took food from my younger siblings’ mouth?”

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “ _Casey, this is not a period drama and we’re not miserable._ ”

The oldest huffed. “But we’re not wealthy either. Things at home are budgeted. If I go to mom for money, it will necessarily come from something else, and it’s probably more important than having cable.”

“ _Well, if you were going to hire cable, then I would probably agree with you, but you’ll not._ ” She pointed out. “ _But fine, let’s say, for argument’s sake, that Marti gaining a skateboard this Christmas is more important than whatever you’re gonna do with the extra cash. You could ask Derek. He has tons of money laying around._ ”

“Absolutely not!” Casey shrieked.

“ _Don’t be prideful!_ ” Lizzie chastised. “ _You already ask for a lot of help from him, a loan would not be that much of a stretch._ ”

“It’s not about pride, Lizzie.” The sister argued. “It’s just that… I don’t want to be that kind of relative, the broke cousin who comes knocking as soon as he began making money. Or worse, a _gold-digger_.” She finishes, with disgust for the word.

“ _Okay, fine, I can see where you’re coming from._ ” She conceded. “ _But, Case, I’m gonna tell you something and you have to promise not to tell anyone, OK?_ ”

The brunette’s lips twisted in confusion. “Sure, I promise.”

“ _Well, one of these days, Derek called home and spoke to George. Edwin was overhearing at the extension, and he told me that Derek said…_ ”

Then, cutting off her sister’s talking, the line went dead. She must have run out of cash, and she had no more quarters to put into the phone.

A shame, really, Casey was very curious about what Derek had said.

* * *

Derek, as it was to be expected, came out on top of adult life, as he often did.

One might think that he would have peaked in high school, with all that top dog persona, womanizing and athleticism, but one would be wrong. The more the time passes, better Derek seemed to fare.

Both of them went to the same university, Queens, in Kingston, but Casey was on an artistic scholarship that covered half tuition, and Derek was on a sports scholarship, full ride, that covered books and food as well.

Their first year, they shared an apartment off-campus, and during their time there, they ended up burying the hatchet in all those years of psychological warfare, even became tentative friends. However, by the sophomore year, when he became an essential part of the starting roster, the Dean’s office was ready to bump up Derek’s “financial assistance” and moved him into a private room (which was bigger than their _shared_ apartment) at the Athletes’ Dorm.

So, Casey also moved out to a smaller apartment, one that she could afford with less assistance. Her mother insisted in helping her, but she did not want to hear it. She took a job at a muffin store near her new home and the rest of her expenses she covered with loans.

Not her brightest move.

The next three years, it would stand to reason that Casey and Derek’s relationship would cool down, but it seemed that distance did make the heart grow fonder. They spent more time together, helped each other, became closer friends. She even begun attending his home games and the odd one out of town.

As soon as he put his hands on his diploma, Derek was so overflown with offers and contracts, he had to actually hire his father to put them in order, as well as finding a manager and a publicist.

By the time Summer was over, he was drafted into the Maple Leafs and signed a shamefully overpriced contract with a sports apparel brand. For the price of dressing himself as if Adidas puked on him, Derek earned weekly what she made in a year.

A few fortuitous investments here and there, courtesy of Edwin’s degree in Economics, shrewd spirit and knack for profitability, and Casey was pretty sure he would never have to worry about cash in his life, even if he lives to see the year 2500.

Eventually, the girl started to appreciate Derek’s qualities, personality quirks and overall presence in her life, and then began to fancy herself in love with her stepbrother.

He was devastatingly handsome, as much as she would not care for admit it, and Casey always felt tongue-tied around him. Besides, when he was not mocking and pranking her, she found him rather funny and surprisingly witty, not to mention kind and available.

Which was, in fact, the reason why she vehemently refused to accept borrowed money from him. She would not steep to the level of finding a rich boyfriend and mooch off of him. Not that she had any chances. He was way out of her league, whatever Lizzie had to say about it.

* * *

On her way back from the shops, Casey ran into Derek Venturi, cover of NHL ’15 videogame franchise, as he would proudly announce as his greatest achievement, waiting for her at her doorstep with some luggage.

"Princess." Derek said sardonically. "I brought what you asked.”

She was so happy with the bundle he brought her; she did not mind the stupid nickname. "Derek, hi. How are you?"

"Cold. Heat's out again, eh?" Derek said in his light Canadian accent.

"I know," Casey sighed. "I've left a message with both the landlord and the housing authority, but it's Friday, so…" she shrugged her shoulders as she trailed off.

"Right." He said unconvinced. “You should move.”

“Why does everybody keep saying that?” She complained. “My place is not that bad!”

“Yeah, because it’s worse!” He pointed out. “Face it, Case, this is a dump.”

“OK, fine, I hate it, but I don’t have the money right now. I’ll have workshops at the school in the summer, so I’ll be able to afford better in the next school year.”

The hockey player rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say. Anyways, you can keep the coat in there, I have five of those at home, and the covers are those duvets you bought me when I went to Sweden. I know you like them.”

“Thank you, Derek, and I will have them all dry-cleaned and returned to you next week.” She emphasised the word “all”, to signify she had no intention of keeping the coat.

Derek sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Casey watched as his muscles bunched beneath his shirt. His sweatshirt rode up his flat, impeccable abs as he raised his arm and Casey found herself biting her lip at that delicious peek of his smooth, warm skin.

"Casey?" Derek said.

Casey flushed and looked up to see him smirking at her. He leaned against the doorway of his flat, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Er, I should go." Casey said, holding up her bag from the grocer's. "Need to put these away."

"Sure, I have to bail too." Derek nodded to her and smiled. “See you around, Case.”

“See ya!” Her voice broke.

Casey hurried up the stairs cursing herself. It was bad enough she had a teeny, tiny, eensy, bitsy, little crush on Derek, and now he seemed to know about it.

God, she was an idiot.

* * *

Several hours later, Casey had finished one meager can of soup and was still hungry when there was a knock on her front door. She was surprised to see Derek standing there with his arms full with bags.

"Derek!" Casey greeted him. What was he doing here? “Have you forgot anything?”

"Entering first, explanations later." Derek shivered, even through his winter coat, Casey could see he was cold.

"God, where are my manners? Come in, please." Casey ushered him inside and down the hall to her bedroom. She had covered the window with one of her heaviest quilts.

She covered him with the blue duvet he brought earlier. It was thick and cotton-y, reminding him of some sort of cloud. Despite his complaining and insistent assertion that the hotel surely would have enough covers, he spent all his nights cuddled beneath the damn thing.

"Jesus Christ, Case! How do you manage to stay at an apartment without insulation? It's an iceberg out there."

"Habit, I suppose." Casey said, off-mindedly. "I keep myself in the bedroom at all times. It's smaller, and I can keep the door closed."

He rolled his eyes. People did that surprisingly often to her these times.

"I bought a portable heater and some food." Derek offered, showing the small appliance to Casey.

She looked at the thing enviously. She had wanted one, but did not want to even know what that would turn her electric bill into. She would deal with it if Derek would share it with her for just a few hours tonight.

“Derek, I have food at home, y’know?” She pointed out. “You’ve seen me arriving home with food today, remember?”

He snorted. “Yeah, I know very well what you bought at the grocery shop. Soup cans, Case? Seriously? Think of the _sodium_!”

She shrugged. “I want to live frugally. Why do you have so much of a problem with that?”

“Case, there is a difference between frugality and starvation.” The man argued, and then adopted a more diplomatic approach. “C’mon, Case, I miss homemade food. I bought all the ingredients for a killer chicken broth. Make me some. Please?”

She sighed. She _was_ hungry.

“Fine, but you’ll help cooking, too.”

He smirked boyishly. “Deal.”

Casey opened the bags and found way more than what was necessary to make the chicken broth. There was produce enough to feed an army ( _“I didn’t know how much you’d need!”_ ), seven kinds of seasoning ( _“If you just told anyone that secret ingredient of yours, I wouldn’t have to raid the aisle!”_ ), the kind of expensive chocolate she likes ( _“That’s dessert.”_ ), and pancake mix ( _“I might want some breakfast, too, y’know?_ ).

As Derek sliced the vegetables, Casey put them on the pot, and the heat of the stove warmed them in spite of the inclement weather outside.

Half an hour later, the broth done and served, Casey and Derek went back to her bedroom with their plates. They sat next to each other on her double bed after he plugged in the space heater, both holding their hands out over the small amount of heat the appliance gave off.

"Oh, that's wonderful." Casey hummed.

"Can't believe you don't have one." Derek muttered.

Casey snorted. "Can't afford the electric bill on it."

Derek nodded and did not say anything else.

After a few moments, Casey dug out the book she'd been reading, offering Derek a selection from her tiny library. Derek chose a detective novel George had given her years ago and they sat in companionable silence for a while.

An hour or so later, Casey felt herself nodding off, her head fell onto Derek's shoulder.

"God, sorry." Casey yawned.

"It's alright. Why don't you lie down?" Derek suggested.

"Are you sure? I can stay up a little longer."

"No. You're tired, lie down for a bit." Derek insisted.

"Alright." Casey took off the snow coat he loaned her and, dressed in only her sweats, she curled up on the far side of the bed, under the blue duvet and a thick knitted blanket.

Derek must have fallen asleep at some point as well because when Casey woke up in the middle of the night, she was hot and he was dozing off next to her, with the book still on his lap.

She pushed the blankets off her and pulled Derek down, so his head laid in a pillow. Closing the book and placing it on the bedside table, she yawned and laid down next to him, falling right back asleep.

* * *

The second time Casey woke up, it was not quite the heat or lack thereof that woke her. Derek was thrashing on the bed, sweating profusely, and muttering nonsense.

“Derek.” She shook him. “Derek, wake up.”

Finally, he jumped from his laid position and sat straight on the bed, panting for air.

“Case…?” He asked, confused. “Where am I? What happened?”

She giggled. It would seem that he was still half asleep.

“We’re at my apartment. You came here to eat some soup, remember?” She said, smiling. “You fell asleep, and just now you were having a nightmare.”

“Oh… Right. I remember now.” He nodded, gravely.

Casey put a hand on his shoulder, trying to stead him. “What was you dreaming about? You were in quite a state.”

The hockey player looked warily to the side. “It’s nothing. I’m fine now, you can go back to sleep.”

“C’mon, Derek, if you talk about it, you might feel better.”

“ _I’m fine_ , Case. Don’t worry.”

“Derek…” She insisted. “Just tell me. I want to help you.”

The man shrugged. “Why? I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not!”

“Of course I am.” He reiterates, feeling frustrated. “It was just a nightmare. No harm done.”

The teacher rolled her eyes. “I know it’s a nightmare. I want to know what happened in it.”

“No, you don’t. You’re just being nosy.”

She gasped, slightly offended. “I want to help you! Why are you being so stubborn?!”

“Well, now you know how it feels like!”

He shouted the last phrase, and as soon as the words were enunciated, his eyes widened. He did not mean to say that.

“What do you mean by it?” Casey whispered.

“You want to know what I dreamt? Fine.” Derek growled. “I dreamt about you, freezing and starving to death!”

“ _What_?!” She asked, in disbelief.

If Derek was not in such a state, he would probably try to walk back from his statement, but he was still nervous and groggily.

“Don’t you realize how much we’re worried about you?! This neighbourhood is dangerous! I was mugged three times here, _three times_ , and I only come to visit! Your apartment is a dump and now I realize you don’t even eat well. Tell me, Casey, are you actively trying to kill me? Do you enjoy making me lose sleep over you?!”

“I didn’t know you cared that much…” She mumbled, embarrassed.

“You didn’t…” He repeated, in frustration. “Goddamnit, Case! Of course, I care! I love you!”

“You love me?” The woman echoes, taken by surprise. “You mean, like a brother, or…?”

Taken suddenly by embarrassment, Derek hangs his head. “No, actually. More like, I’m in love with you.”

“Oh…”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I mean, it’s weird, I know, but, well, I can’t help it, can I?”

She smiled at him, placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him deeply.

“You talk too much sometimes.” She whispered against his mouth.

He smirks. “It takes one to know one.”

As they kissed, Casey felt a hand had crept around her middle, underneath her sweatshirt, smoothing along the skin of her stomach. She held her breath as it reached higher and higher, skating along the curve of her breast.

"Derek?" she whispered.

He snatched his hand away. "Oh God, I'm so sorry Casey. I didn't mean to—"

"It's alright." Casey assured him. Then she bit her lip. "I kind of liked it."

"Really?" Derek asked in disbelief.

Casey turned to face him in the dim light of the room. She nodded. "Yeah, it felt nice."

Tentatively, Derek reached a hand back out and slid it under her sweatshirt. Casey gasped at the feeling of his hot skin pressed to hers and arched her back, encouraging him to reach his hand higher. Derek slid his hand up her stomach and cupped one of her breasts. Casey grabbed onto his arm in appreciation when he thumbed her nipple.

"Feels good." she panted. And then Derek's lips were on hers, slanting across her mouth and plundering his tongue inside. He was a phenomenal kisser and Casey pulled at him until he was lying on top of her.

"God, don't stop." Casey muttered as Derek began kissing down the side of her neck.

* * *

As the two of them laid together enjoying the afterglow, at late hours of the night, Derek played with her hair and Casey listened to his heartbeat, ears laid on his bare chest.

“Now, can we sleep at my place tomorrow night?” He suddenly asks.

She raised her head, to look deep into his eyes, a smirk on her lips. “Why? Don’t you think it’s nice here? With the two of us, cuddled together for warmth?”

The man chuckles. “Fine, your crappy radiator has one use. I’ll turn off the heat at my place and we can use the hot water at bathtub. I’ll even let you buy those stupid bath bombs you like so much.”

“Fine.” She kissed his lips softly. “But only for tomorrow, and I’ll make pancakes.”

“You drive a hard bargain, McDonald.”

If this was what her weekend of no heat had in store for her, Casey thought she might have to write her landlord a thank you note.


End file.
